Briar Rose
by Bluebird.tm
Summary: A noble and his sister set out to find the legendary Sleeping Beauty, but is the cursed princess really what she seems? Dark, gothic retelling of the childhood favourite. Please review!
1. A Strange Land

When word reached us of the sleeping castle I knew that my brother would not rest until his lust for questing was sated, until we had found the princess who lay slumbering in the eye of a curse. The tale came from far away, over the hills, from the deep heart of the irrational east. We travelled, him and I, through many patchwork fields; over vast mountain ranges; and across the great rivers of our continent, until at last we reached a land in which the very air is pregnant with doubt and at night the wind whispers ancient secrets high above the lofty mountain paths.

The people here are tough and superstitious, bent with toil, weathered by the harsh winds that rattle through their crude woollen clothing. They seem themselves to have been flung here by the wind from the farthest corners of the earth, as there is no uniformity in their appearance, aside from the identically blank expressions worn by all; Slavic men with wide, studded belts roam the hills; picturesque Asiatic women trudge along the roadsides carrying colourful bundles on their heads; and everywhere shrines flutter their ribbons towards the sky, announcing their icons to passers-by. They cling to their folk law, necks and wrists laden with strings of primitive charms, rosaries, loops of wooden beads, strange amulets and a multitude of other jewellery with which they ward off the ancient evils that plague their country. I don't blame them, there is little here to live on but the chill wind and silent rocks, and the wolves are always hungry.

Away from the roughly hewn roads that have been gouged out of the defiant hills, huge, tangled forests spring up gloomily and blanket the cold ground in impenetrable oceans of green, populated only by howling beasts, which can sometimes be seen swimming through the murky shadows at the forest edges. The cerulean sky is cavernously empty, hanging eternally over crested mountains: The inhuman beauty of the region; the lonely expanses of exquisitely uninhabitable earth; the anonymity of the wilderness and all the secrets it holds conspired to snatch my brothers heart and lock it away in rock and ice. Beside such immensity mere mortals are infinitesimal and the strange rumours that rustle through the villages are unsurprising, those mysterious murmurs of danger and despair appear to be bred by the mountains themselves.

We travelled through the harsh world for endless weeks, searching for a whisper of the enchanted princess, but though we found those who would take us in for the night, for a price, a mention of the tale would induce nothing but a terrified silence from all those to whom we spoke. The longer we searched, the more intrigued my brother became, until he was seized by an almost obsessive mania; he slept badly, ate little and was consumed by dreams of the mysterious woman. This fruitless chase continued for several months, and everyday I begged my brother to give up the search and come away from the cold beauty that trapped us.

I was beginning to despair at his deteriorating health when we came across a deserted village, deep in the hostile forests, filled with tiny crumbling cottages, one of which exuded a thin blue column of smoke from the worn chimney. The hut was almost entirely covered with climbing plants, and ferns pushed out through broken shutters, from which faded red paint peeled sadly. It looked as though it would turn to dust and blow away in the slightest breath of wind. In front of this house, slumped in a crude rocking chair, was a woman who looked older than the hills, older than even the forests and mountains. Her face was so wrinkled that her eyes were almost invisible between grey folds of skin. From between her thin lips hung a wooden pipe, and she puffed out noxious purple fumes into the crystal air. Beside her was a curious object that looked rather like a large pestle and mortar, and I wondered what it could be for. She watched us in silence as we approached with unusual caution, and the forest was silent but for the far off howling of the wolves. My brother coughed nervously and greeted her in the fashion customary to the region. She smiled suddenly, showing crooked yellow teeth, and a soft wind rustled her thick ropes of iron-grey hair. To our surprise she answered us in perfect French, and promised to give us the knowledge we sought in return for my ruby ring. My brother readily agreed, and I, grateful for the direction that the wise-woman provided, handed it over without question. We gladly accepted her offer of a place to stay for the night, the forests in this land are never safe, and as ripples of darkness spread inky tendrils across the sky, we stooped into the safety of the crooked hut.

**A/N: Please review! Chapter 2 is on it's way, should be done before monday (hopefully). **


	2. The Rose Castle

I woke to see my brother's face looming anxiously over me; no doubt he was impatient to find his princess, now that we knew the way. As I stepped out of the gloomy little house and into the cool sunlight I could not suppress a slight shudder. The strange old lady was nowhere to be seen, and our shelter, which had been a relatively sturdy cottage the night before, was nothing but ruins now, and triumphant weeds snaked through cracks in the brick. We left the glade in uneasy silence, and headed towards the towering mountains that the witch had pointed to.

In all my travels I had never seen anything like the eerie beauty of the land through which we were now riding. There was something about it that made me anxious, I couldn't put my finger on the feeling, but I felt…threatened? My brother was alarmingly cheerful, more so than I had seen him in weeks, and I even managed to persuade him to eat a little, but all the same I couldn't help feeling ill at ease. We travelled through the forests for endless hours, and then, suddenly, the trees gave way to a rocky plateau, and above us the mountains surged towards the sky. By midday we had reached the mountain pass that the witch bade us take, and by late afternoon the pass widened out and we gazed down in awe at the sight below us. Four mountains stood in a circle, and right in the centre of these giants, nestled like an egg between them, stood a castle. A castle with rose and honey coloured walls, towers with delicate golden turrets and shining glass domes that rose up between the mountains. Winding around the shimmering palace was a vicious tangle of thorny bushes, which surrounded the princess's keep like a deadly, spine-filled moat. I glanced at my brother, but he seemed not to notice the barbed maze, his eyes fixated instead on the enchanted palace. Following his gaze, my eyes roamed the pretty turrets and the harder I looked the less clearly I saw. I turned away, trying to clear my head, and when I looked back a pearly layer of magic had slipped from the walls, leaving behind a sad, ruined fortress. Gasping I turned to my brother, and from the look on his face he saw what I did. I shivered with premonition, but followed my brother as he left his horse and clambered down to the edge of the barren rosebushes.

A path opened up for us through the formidable thickets and as we walked cautiously through the thick hedges vicious, barbed spikes snatched at us, tearing jagged holes in our clothes. Through the brambles we glimpsed the skewered remains of the less fortunate heroes; crow-picked corpses encased within the lethal fortress. As the crumbling castle loomed up out of the gloom a strange rushing noise filled the air and an unnatural wind tugged at us; behind us the path was closing rapidly; snaking branches whipped angrily into the space; spikes ripped the air with alarming speed, and as one we fled from the murderous foliage and leapt through the last straggling bushes in a breathless tumble. The greedy vegetation, deprived of their prey, rustled ominously and threw out seductive blooms, filling the air with intoxicating lethargy. Turning away from the wanton flowers we crept through a crumbling archway and slipped into the cool shadows of the castle's interior.

**A/N: Sorry this is really short and rushed, but it seemed like a good place to break and though I have a good part of the next chapter worked out I'm not sure if I'm going to have enough time to finish it properly this weekend, and since we are getting to the princess I want to do it justice! **


	3. Myths and Legends

Inside, the intense darkness swirled with shapes, and the invisible walls whispered darkly to one another. There was an utter absence of humanity, and other things had invaded the ruins, claiming it for their own. Hungry looking plants twined around columns, swallowed thick walls whole and sucked ancient furniture into fleshy cages. Vines snaked innocently across the passages, now lit by our tenuous torchlight, and seemed to trip us at every turn. I am not a superstitious person, but my hands strayed automatically to the crucifix about my neck. My brother always laughed at me for wearing it, but I found it comforting somehow, and I was glad of its weight around my neck at that moment. I was so lost in thought that I walked straight into my sibling and, as he stumbled, the torchlight swung wildly, illuminating a pair of massive wooden doors. The light flickered eerily over the intricate carvings on the doors, which depicted an ancient story. The wood had been worn away in places, but parts of the design were still visible and I ran my hand across the beautiful shapes, trying to discern their meaning. My fingers froze over the engraving of a sleeping girl, and I saw the tale unfold in my minds eye.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived, in a beautiful palace in the mountains, a wise king and his wife. The queen longed for a child, but long years passed childless. When it seemed that there was no hope for the royal couple, the queen fell pregnant, and, in due course, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Now, there were four faeries living in the kingdom, one in each corner of the realm; the first lived in the southern hills, and was renowned for her beauty and grace; the second resided on the farthest eastern shores and was known for her great wit and charm; the third roamed the great western plains and was famed for her kindness and compassion; and the fourth dwelled in the deep northern woods, and was infamously cruel. The three from the south, east and west were invited to the royal christening, and there they bestowed upon the young princess the gifts of beauty, wit and kindness, but the northern faerie was not welcome and when she realised the snub she was furious. In revenge she attended the christening, and cursed the unfortunate child. So it was, that when the girl reached her sixteenth year, she would prick her finger on a rose, and fall into a living death.

I wrenched my hand away from the wood in shock, and turned to my brother, who was staring at me in surprise. Wordlessly I took his hand and placed it on the wooden princess, watching the story unfold in his eyes. He saw, as I had, the slender rose swaying innocently in a breeze, saw the inquisitive girl reach out to touch it with smooth fingers, and the tiny, fateful drop of blood that had slipped darkly from her pale skin. When it was over he whistled quietly and then, flashing me a grin that I knew meant no good, shoved open the doors.

**A/N: Ok so I said I wouldn't have this chapter by the end of the weekend. I lied. I also said there would be a princess...and there sort of was. Anyway this is really just a filler/clarify chapter and I was playing with the idea of how tales are told within tales. Obviously Sleeping Beauty is almost universally known but I wanted to add a twist so there we go. Let me know what you think!**


	4. Cestrum nocturnum

We entered the hushed closeness of a dusty chapel; our steps sounded loudly through the imperative silence and I subconsciously held my breath. The towering ceiling was elaborately carved with earthy imagery; severe angels gazed unseeingly from a thousand gloomy alcoves surrounded by carefully sculpted flowers, leaves, birds and fruits. The grotesque faces of gargoyles glared down from dark heights and coloured light filtered dimly through dusty stained glass windows at either end of the huge space. On entering the great room hundreds of candles flared into life, sending soft, flickering shadows dancing along the walls, and sending us skittering for cover in surprise. The air was thick with magic, and we instinctively knew that our quarry was close, and I felt, rather than saw, the impatient movements of my reckless sibling.

At the far, shadowy end of the church, in place of the altar, surrounded by the crumbling tombs of forgotten royals lay a girl of exquisite beauty. Her face had a symmetry that seemed to mirror the still, carved faces of the angels. She was surrounded by candles, and her carefully arranged hair glimmered like gold leaf in the soft light. Her bed of crimson velvet overflowed with white roses; they covered her slim form and cascaded elegantly to the cool stone floor. Beneath this veil of rare flowers the princess's heavy satin skirts and sleeves also fell to the floor, gathering in smooth cream pools on which the blossoms floated. The effect was mesmerising, and even I found I was losing myself in the perfect lines of her face; for my brother there was no hope. Where we come from I am considered a rare beauty, with raven dark hair, pale skin and exotic green eyes, but she, well, she was beyond perfection.

The two of us, Gabriel and I, have been rescuing damsels in distress for a while now; it's almost getting dull. He's picky you see, has been since he was a boy, and we've been searching for a bride for him for over a year. There was the girl in the tower...Raspina was it? Her hair was too long, silly creature never cut it, but didn't think to use it to escape either. And then there was the poor girl who lived with dwarves, choked on an apple I think, far too delicate. We've travelled the world, him and I, slain a few dragons, fought a few ogres. I think he secretly just wants to find a girl he can take on adventures with him, somebody to replace me when I marry. The trouble is that it's not really considered proper, my adventures, and it does but people off, but Gabe and I have been inseparable since we were born, and where one goes, so does the other.

I snapped out of my reverie when I realise my brother was leaning over the prone figure. 'What are you doing?' I hissed,

'I have to kiss her Celine.'

_Obviously. _

It's always the kiss.

I hoped he hadn't seen me roll my eyes.

Gabriel leaned forward and placed his lips gently on the princess's lips and I glanced away, noticing, as my gaze swept the chapel, that the coloured light filtering through the windows was fading quickly. I sighed at the thought of spending a night in the dark, ruined castle, but before I could ponder at how fast the sun had set, a tiny gasp from the altar drew my eyes. The princess's lips parted in a smile, she opened wide black eyes, and gazed up at my brother's awestruck face.

**A/N: Another really short one, I'm kind of dividing this one up into really short sections because it means I can post more often. Please let me know what you think of the story/style/grammar/whatever, and any guesses as to the plot, I'd love to hear any theories. Thanks.**

****__**Cestrum nocturnum**_ : _Common names include Night-blooming Cestrum, Lady of the Night, Queen of the Night, Night-blooming jessamine, and Night-blooming Jasmine. _  
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